


lookin' for 8

by moonlight_mile



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Bull Rider Louis, Closeted Character, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Homophobia, Little Mix as various barrel racers and rodeo queens, M/M, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Mutual Pining, Rodeo AU, Rodeo Announcer Harry, Saddle Bronc Rider Liam, Serious Injuries, Slow Burn, Tie-Down Roper Niall, Zayn isn't mentioned til much later sorry, also there will be some, also?? this isn't gonna be as angsty as the tags make it seem, at least I don't think it will, but this is gonna be a, so like don't expect much at first lol, some smut tags:, which I will also warn about as needed, will give warnings by chapter as necessary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-25 02:09:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12025875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonlight_mile/pseuds/moonlight_mile
Summary: "pearls and necklaces and girlsand all the pretty things i ain't seeking to haveit's safe to say if i don't get this out of me i might quite easilyend up dead or just madcross my t's and try to dot my i'sbut that's just blinding me and i ain't living that wayi roll my sleeves and make a better man of meor i might easilyjust give up on this show"





	lookin' for 8

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this one for quite some time, and I was going to wait until it was completely finished before posting, but I've decided I'm going to go ahead and start posting as I go. I think it'll motivate me more, knowing that it's out there in the world.
> 
> This fic is my baby. Because of the nature of the setting, there is quite a bit of homophobia implied and referenced in the story, but I'm doing my best to keep it on the lighter side of realistic. With that being said, this first chapter does mention a memory of some past homophobic violence, though it's not terribly major or graphic. Still, be warned if that's something that might affect you negatively.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> (title from Amarillo By Morning by George Strait, because honestly, how could I write a rodeo AU and _not_?)

It always felt like being underwater.

Somewhere, distantly, the crowd’s dull roar swelled, the announcer’s voice crackled harshly through the ancient sound system, and the bull’s hooves pounded mercilessly as it twisted, turned, rose, and fell, trying to rid itself of the annoyance on its back.

All Louis could ever hear was the quiet count inside his head.

_One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight…_

There it was. The buzzer sounded and Louis felt like he was surfacing after a dive. All the sound rushed back into his ears just as he made a calculated leap off the back of the bull and connected with the red dirt of the arena. He rolled once, nimbly sprang to his feet, and sprinted to the fence and climbed up, not looking back to see if the bull had followed or if the rodeo clown had done a good enough job distracting it from trying to stomp his guts out.

It was a good ride. But now it was over, and Louis was the last rider, and all he needed was to get his score and hopefully get a big enough payout to make it to the next weekend.

Eighty-one points. As good as he had hoped, better than he had expected. Combined with his scores from the previous night, he was in second place, which was beyond anything he had hoped for coming into Texas. Louisiana and Mississippi had been good to him, but those were still the smaller rodeos like he was used to back home in Alabama. Texas felt bigger from the moment he crossed the state line, and it felt bigger now with five crisp new $100 bills in his wallet, a bigger payout than he’d ever gotten for placing first in other states.

He nodded his thanks to the attendant and walked toward the muddy excuse for a parking lot, pausing for a moment to pull a pack of Marlboros out of his shirt pocket and light one. Taking a slow drag, he let the nicotine creep through his veins and soak up the last bits of adrenaline still buzzing in his system after his ride.

“Hey, you ‘bout ready to head on out?” Liam called from where he stood next to his old truck.

Louis tossed his bag of gear into the bed of the truck. “Yeah, saw a Waffle House and a couple motels just off the freeway when we was comin’ in. Unless you wanna party?”

“Nah, too wore out. Got a six pack in the ice chest that we can split if you want but I ain’t lookin’ to get trashed or nothin’,” Liam answered as he and Louis hopped into the cab of the truck and pulled onto the gravel road.

Next weekend they would go out. They only had to drive six and a half hours tomorrow, from Tyler to Lubbock, to meet up with Niall, a calf roper they’d been on the circuit with through most of Mississippi and Louisiana. Niall had gone back home to his family’s ranch outside of Lubbock before they hit the Texas circuit, but he had invited Louis and Liam to stay with him for a few days while they were there for their next rodeo. He was planning on hitting the road with them again to loop back north into Oklahoma, before heading farther west, following the circuit for the rest of the summer.

Niall had been a refreshing addition to their dynamic – Louis and Liam had been friends for years, but their personalities clashed sometimes after hours on the road with no time away from each other. Liam was serious, a little overbearing, and didn’t know when to quit when they were drinking. Louis was loud, brash, and didn’t care much for sticking to any kind of plan. Niall’s easygoing temperament had been a nice buffer between the two of them and Louis was glad they’d be joining back up for the next couple of months.

Liam joined the line of trucks and trailers turning onto the two-lane blacktop that would take them back to I-20. Louis pulled off his hat and tossed it into the backseat. He closed his eyes and leaned his head back, suddenly exhausted. “How ‘bout we find somewhere with a drive-thru? Think I just wanna grab something fast and take it back to the motel.”

“Yeah, alright, that’s fine.”

+

Louis woke the next morning with a deep ache in his muscles. He winced as he stretched, rolling over and dumping four ibuprofen pills out of the bottle on the nightstand. He tossed them in his mouth all at once and knocked them back with the watered-down Coke left in the bottom of his styrofoam McDonald’s cup.

He could hear the shower already running, so he rolled back over and dozed off for another couple of minutes. He woke again when the bathroom door opened. Liam ambled over to the chair where he’d deposited his duffel bag the night before and began to rummage through it, holding a towel around his waist. “Good thing we’re gonna be at Niall’s place the next few days ‘cause I’m fresh out of clean socks and underwear.”

“Knew you smelled worse than usual,” Louis said. He dodged the yellowed sock Liam tossed his direction and made his own way into the bathroom. “This room had a coffee pot, didn’t it?” he asked, leaning on the door frame. He glanced around the room, spotting the coffee maker on top of the mini-fridge. He nodded towards it. “Make us some coffee.”

“Make your own goddamn coffee,” Liam shot back, but he moved toward the machine anyway.

Louis closed the bathroom door and stripped out of his boxers. He turned the water on, letting it run for a few moments before he stepped under the scalding hot spray. The water pressure was weak, but the heat soothed the sore muscles in his back and thighs. He rubbed the bar of soap over his face and body before squeezing a dollop of shampoo out of the tiny bottle and scrubbing his hair clean. When he rinsed off, he idly ran a hand down his stomach. _Goddamn, it’s been a while_ , he thought. He groped his cock, half-hard, and began to slowly work himself over.

Louis wasn’t opposed to a casual hookup here and there. He just had to work a little harder than his peers to make it happen, and he hadn’t felt like it was worth the effort in a few months. His mind helpfully supplied a few images from the last time he’d managed to get laid. He’d begged off of a night out back in Little Rock with Liam and Niall and a few other guys, claiming the rib he’d cracked a couple weeks before was bothering him. They hadn’t been too sorry about leaving him behind. He knew he’d been a bitch to be around, which was precisely why he’d done what he did.

The club had just been a small building with metal siding, but it had been full to capacity by the time his Uber dropped him off just after midnight. There had been a few different rooms; one with a dance floor, one with a stage and a bar, and one with a few couches and softer music. He’d found a spot to lean against the bar in the room with the stage, and had been watching the drag show for a few minutes, mildly entertained, when the man had approached him. Louis couldn’t even remember what his face looked like. All he remembered was the relief that had flooded his body when he fell to his knees in the dirty bathroom stall, the man’s hand tangled in the back of his hair.

The memory pushed Louis over the edge, and he finished with a choked off grunt. He stood for a few more moments in the spray, feeling much more relaxed than he had in a couple of days. He shut off the water and stepped out, drying himself quickly and then wrapping the towel around his waist and stepping back out into the motel room.

He inhaled deeply, the scent of coffee fresh on the stale air. “Knew I kept you around for a reason, Liam.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Liam snapped, but there wasn’t any heat behind it. “Hey, your mom called me while you were in the shower. Said your phone was going straight to voicemail.”

“Shit, I forgot to plug it up last night.” Louis dropped his towel and pulled on a clean pair of boxers. “Guess it’s dead.” He patted the rumpled bedspread, trying to locate his phone. He fished it out of the blankets and pushed the home button. The screen remained black. “Did she say if she needed something?”

“Nah, just wondered where we’re headed next,” Liam replied, pulling on his boots. “I got a car charger in the truck if you wanna plug it up when we head out.”

“Yeah, thanks. Lemme get dressed and I’ll be good to go.”

+

They had been on the road for three hours when Louis remembered to call his mom back. He reached over to turn down the radio and tapped her number on his recent calls. No one else ever called him, really, except for Eleanor sometimes. He had broken up with her just after high school graduation when he and Liam had been about to leave for their first summer on the road, but somehow she still couldn’t take a hint.

Louis’ mom answered after a couple of rings. “Louis, can I call you back later? I’m about to head back into work.” She sounded tired. Louis felt guilty for leaving her, but he knew he could help her out more on the road than he could have with his old job in the loading dock at the feed store back home.

“Yeah, that’s fine, mama. Liam said you called this morning. I was just checking in to make sure you didn’t need anything.”

“Just hadn’t heard from you in a couple of days. I know Liam would call me if you ended up in the hospital but...you know I worry about you riding those bulls.” Louis swallowed down another wave of guilt. He changed the subject.

“Did you get the wire transfer? I won pretty big in Tyler.”

She sighed. “Lou, baby...you don’t have to send so much money. We do alright, you know.”

Louis changed the subject yet again. “How are the girls? Lottie get rid of that boy yet?”

They continued to make small talk for a couple of minutes before his mom finally said, “I’ve really got to go now, baby. Please be careful. And call me after your next ride so I know you’re not smashed to pieces in an emergency room somewhere.”

Louis ended the call with a sigh. He didn’t enjoy being away from home, but he didn’t enjoy being in his hometown for extended periods of time, either. He’d always been itching to escape, and when he had found something he was good enough at to make that a possibility, he’d latched onto it without looking back.

He hadn’t always had dreams of being a professional bull rider. He probably wouldn’t have ever considered it, but when he was eleven, he’d gone to watch his first bull riding and something clicked inside him. His dad had taken him. Louis hadn’t seen him for years before that, and he hadn’t seen him since, either. He’d gotten a card in the mail from him with a fifty dollar bill two weeks after he’d graduated high school, but that was the extent of their contact. Still, he always imagined that he had his dad to thank for sparking the drive in him to make something of himself.

He’d met Liam soon after that outing with his dad, because he knew that Liam’s family had always been big in the rodeo scene. Liam himself had been a little bit shy and awkward as a kid, so it wasn’t hard for Louis to befriend him and start tagging along to events. Liam’s parents had helped him find gear to borrow when he started competing in high school rodeo, and then when he started winning, he’d decided it was time to get a job so that he could buy his own gear and pay his own entry fees.

Liam had transitioned to saddle bronc riding when they hit their growth spurts and he had suddenly bulked up, becoming bigger than a typical bull rider seemingly overnight. Louis didn’t. He had developed lean, wiry muscles, and he always silently thanked the genetic lottery for giving him a body that seemed built to do what he loved.

It was around this time that Louis had also realized that he wasn’t interested in the barrel racers and rodeo queens that Liam was fawning over. He’d tried his best, but eventually he’d resigned himself to the fact that he was more interested in the rough stock riders and bulldoggers he was competing against. After some internal battling, he had decided to embrace it as an opportunity to pursue his career with no distractions. He’d never had any delusions of coming out and maintaining a bull riding career – that idea was almost laughable – but he knew he could avoid questions and concerns about his love life if he just insisted he was putting his sport – his career – above everything else. So he’d broken up with Eleanor, sweet girl-next-door that she was, and had thrown himself into rodeo, pretending he wasn’t aching for something more.

They pulled up to the Rockin’ H Ranch in the late afternoon. When Louis stepped out of the cab of Liam’s truck, it felt like stepping into an oven. He adjusted his ballcap, settling the brim lower on his forehead to shade his eyes against the Texas sun, and followed Liam across the dusty yard. The house was a two-story white frame farmhouse with a wraparound porch. An overweight hound dog with a graying muzzle lazily tipped its head toward them from its spot under a porch swing, but it decided they posed no threat and went back to its nap. Liam knocked on the door.

“Hey, y’all come on in!” Niall called from somewhere inside the house. Liam and Louis stepped into the slightly cooler air of the house. Stepping around a corner, Niall wiped his hands on his jeans and immediately went in to hug both Louis and Liam at the same time. Louis tensed for a moment before he brought an arm up to squeeze back; he had forgotten how easily affectionate Niall was.

“Fuck, I’m so glad y’all are here! I just threw some steaks in to marinate, gotta make a beer run before too long. Y’all wanna get your shit in here?”

“Yeah, where’s the bathroom? I gotta take a leak.” Niall pointed Louis in the right direction before following Liam back out to the porch to help carry in their bags. After Louis finished his business, he washed his hands and followed the sound of Niall’s and Liam’s voices up the stairs, where he found them in a room with dated floral wallpaper and lace curtains over the dormered window. Twin beds sat on either side of the window, each covered with a quilt that looked homemade and well-worn.

“I know y’all are probably ready to have some space from each other but my buddy Harry is coming down too, so I’ll have to put him in the other extra room,” Niall apologized.

“Nah, man, it’s fine. Probably wouldn’t know how to sleep without this asshole snorin’ and fartin’ all night anymore, anyway,” Louis joked. Niall let out a howl of laughter as Liam protested – “I do not snore!”

“Anyway,” Niall cut back in, “I’m about to head into town to grab some more beer and ice. Either of y’all wanna come?”

Louis wasn’t much of a religious man, but he was silently praying to God, Jesus, and the Holy Ghost that Liam would take Niall up on the offer. It wasn’t that he didn’t enjoy their company – Liam was his best friend, and Niall was one of the first rodeo cowboys he’d met that didn’t intimidate him outside of the arena – but he was desperate for just a few moments of peace and quiet. He hadn’t been fully alone in what felt like months.

“Yeah, I’ll come with. You comin’, Lou?”

Louis mentally sent his thanks to whatever deity had answered his prayer. “Nah, y’all go on. I’m fuckin’ beat. Gonna lay down for a little bit.”

“Alright, man, we’ll be back after while.” Liam and Niall turned to head back down the stairs. After a moment’s pause, Louis made to follow them, patting his shirt pocket for his pack of cigarettes. He flipped the top and tilted it on its side to get at the cigarettes – shit, last one.

“Liam! Pick me up some smokes!” he shouted at Liam’s back as he climbed into Niall’s truck. Liam just waved a hand behind him in response. Louis lit up as Niall sped off down the long driveway, a cloud of dust swirling in his wake.

+

Louis made his way back upstairs in the now-silent house, letting the calm wash over him. He really was tired, and still feeling sore from his last ride. He closed the bedroom door softly before stepping out of his boots and shedding his jeans and t-shirt. He switched the ceiling fan to the highest setting and laid himself out across one of the beds in his boxers, relishing the cool air hitting his skin. Sucking in a deep breath, he closed his eyes and let himself doze off.

It felt like he’d been asleep for hours when he woke, but a glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table told him it’d only been about ten minutes. He heard slow, heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Half-awake, he tried to remember how long it would take Niall and Liam to get to the liquor store. Surely they weren’t back yet. So who was in the house? Niall had told them that his parents lived in town full-time now and only came out to the farm a couple times a week.

Louis sighed and rolled over, planting his feet on the worn hardwood floor. Whoever it was, they probably thought they were in an empty house. Might as well make his presence known. He pulled his jeans back on, not bothering with a shirt, and opened the bedroom door to look out onto the landing. His brows furrowed as he stepped out – there was no one in sight.

Suddenly his attention was drawn by a muffled thud. _“Shit!”_ the person hissed loudly. Louis crossed the landing and stuck his head into the second upstairs bedroom.

 _Jesus H. Christ_ , he thought, immediately self-conscious about his bare chest. There was a man – a very, very beautiful man – standing beside the bed, rubbing the back of his head with a pained look on his face. His soft brown hair was long, pulled into a messy bun on top of his head with a fluorescent yellow athletic headband holding back the tendrils that were attempting to escape. A weathered leather duffel bag sat open on the ground at his feet. Before Louis could collect his thoughts and say something, the man looked up and noticed him standing in the doorway.

“Oh, shit, you scared me,” the man said. “Are you Liam? Or Louis? Niall said y’all were coming in today.” His voice was deep and slow; every word seemed to gain an extra syllable or two coming out of his mouth. Louis swallowed, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“I’m Louis, yeah. Did you hit your head or something?” The man was still rubbing the back of his head absentmindedly.

“Oh – yeah.” He gestured toward the sloped ceiling. “Bent over to get something out of my bag, then I stood up before I remembered the ceiling was so low right there. I’m Harry Styles, by the way.” He reached out to shake Louis’ hand. Louis was caught somewhere between charmed by the formal gesture, and embarrassed on Harry’s behalf. He stepped forward and shook his hand anyway.

“Louis Tomlinson. Good to meet you.” Louis quickly dropped Harry’s hand, surreptitiously wiping his sweaty palm on his jeans. _Jesus_ , but this guy was too pretty for his own good. Maybe pretty wasn’t the right word, per se; he was a bit taller than Louis, with broader shoulders, and though he looked like he spent a fair amount of time in the gym, there was a slight softness about his hips and stomach above the waistband of his athletic shorts. He had thick, straight brows and a strong nose. His full, pink lips, though – _pretty_ was a good description there, at least. They lent his face a softness and tempered the masculinity of his jawline in a way that had Louis captivated.

“Is Niall around?” Harry asked as rummaged through his bag, brows furrowed in concentration. 

“Nah, him and Liam are on a beer run. They left about fifteen, twenty minutes ago.”

Harry let out a small hum of acknowledgment, then triumphantly fished a phone charger out of his bag.

Louis started to back slowly out of the room. “I’m gonna, uh, get out of your hair.” He scratched the back of his head.

Harry looked up at him. “Oh, yeah, okay. I, uh – I’ll be here.” He looked down again, eyes fixed on his phone, which had just come back to life. His voice was like whiskey mixed with honey. “Holler if you need anything.”

Louis didn’t trust himself to speak without his voice breaking. He gave Harry a curt nod and hurried back into the other bedroom. He sighed and flopped across the bed dramatically. He’d been doing so well. It’d been ages since the last time he’d had a crush on a straight guy.

+

Several hours later, Louis found himself relaxing in a faded plastic lawn chair on the back patio of the ranch house. He was contentedly full, thanks to Niall’s expertise on the grill, and he’d had just enough beer to feel pleasantly hazy around the edges. Niall was animatedly telling Liam a story – something about his and Harry’s college days, it seemed, judging by the slightly embarrassed look on Harry’s face whenever he interrupted to offer a forgotten detail – but Louis couldn’t concentrate on the words.

There was no moon that night, but the patio was lit warmly by a single yellow bulb just above the screen door that led into the kitchen. The light was reflecting off Harry’s hair, now falling to his shoulders in loose waves, giving some strands the appearance of spun gold. Every so often, he’d turn his head just so and catch eyes with Louis, and the light would glint in his eyes as he grinned softly, a dimple carved deep in his cheek.

“Think Lou’s fallin’ asleep over there,” Liam laughed. Louis jerked a bit at the sound of his name and blinked his eyes open. He hadn’t even realized he’d closed them.

Harry stood up and stretched, arms above his head. He yawned and Louis pointedly avoided looking at the tattoos on his lower belly, leading down into the waistband of his jeans. _What the fuck_ , Louis thought to himself.

“I’m about to pass the fuck out myself,” Harry said, voice a little rough with exhaustion. “See y’all in the morning.” The battered screen door squeaked as he opened it and shuffled inside. He caught Louis’ eye one last time, giving him a small smile and an almost imperceptible nod.

They sat in silence for a few moments after Harry went inside, before Louis cleared his throat. _Be cool_ , he scolded himself. “So, uh, how do you know Harry, again?”

_Way to go._

Niall and Liam, blessedly, didn’t seem to see anything odd about Louis’ question. He was overthinking things again, clearly.

“Our families go way back,” Niall answered. “We were team roping partners for high school rodeo. We were on the rodeo team together in college til he busted his knee in the middle of the season junior year.”

“Oh, shit,” Liam said, his brows furrowed in concern.

Niall waved a hand, “Nah, it wasn’t all that bad, he just had a run-in with a real green horse at his dad’s place. Sidelined him for the rest of the season, so he started focusing more on his degree and figured out that’s what he was really passionate about.”

“What was his major?” Louis asked, trying not to sound too interested.

“He did broadcast, but he realized at that point he didn’t wanna be on the radio like he always dreamed of,” Niall said, standing up to stretch. “He kept going to all the rodeos with the team even though he couldn’t compete. He’d sit up in the box with the announcers, and he got real into it. A couple of them started letting him tag along to different local rodeos, and hooking him up with some small-time gigs at high school rodeos and some ranch rodeos.”

Louis tried to imagine Harry’s deep, slow voice booming out over the red dirt arenas he rode in. Somehow, he didn’t think his imagination did it justice.

Niall’s voice cut back across Louis’ daydreams. “Y’all are welcome to stay up as long as you like, but I’m about to crash.”

Liam and Louis both stood. “Nah, it’s bedtime for us too,” Liam said.

Louis nodded. He followed Liam up the stairs and into the tiny bedroom, stripped to his boxers, and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

+

Louis woke to the smell of bacon, feeling more well-rested than he had in weeks. He rolled over, stretching, and saw that Liam’s bed was already empty. He could hear muffled laughter and the sound of a cabinet door being slammed shut drifting up the stairs and through the closed bedroom door.

Slowly, he roused himself and stood from the bed, rummaging through his bag for a pair of mesh basketball shorts. As he descended the narrow staircase, the scent of breakfast intensified, and he heard a sudden, honking laugh that he could now identify as Harry’s at something one of the others had said.

“Morning, sunshine,” Niall greeted him brightly as he entered the kitchen. Louis didn’t respond immediately, eyes fixed on the full coffee pot with an empty mug sat beside it. He poured himself a cup and then took a seat on one of the barstools at the kitchen counter, next to Liam.

“Mornin’,” he finally mumbled, after his first scalding sip of coffee. “Time is it?”

“It’s nearly ten,” Harry answered from his post in front of the stove, where he was currently stacking bacon on a plate lined neatly with paper towels to absorb the grease.

Niall was hunched over the end of the counter next to Liam, apparently sharing some hilarious YouTube video with him. They burst into laughter again, and Harry grinned even though he wasn’t in on the joke. Everything about him seemed so sunny and light. Louis wasn’t sure he’d had enough coffee for this just yet.

Louis was content to let himself wake up slowly, only halfway listening to the conversation between the other three as he sipped his coffee. Quietly, he made his way through two helpings of Harry’s homemade biscuits and bacon gravy. The rodeo wasn’t until the next evening, so they were planning to enjoy a quiet day of rest. Niall had a few matters of ranch business to attend to, but otherwise, it was shaping up to be a relaxing day of beer drinking and trashy daytime TV.

After breakfast, Louis and Liam helped Harry clean up the kitchen to the tunes of Dolly Parton, Waylon Jennings, and Johnny Cash, courtesy of the ancient FM radio that Niall claimed wouldn’t pick up anything but the classic country station out of Lubbock. Harry was totally shameless about singing along, belting out Ring of Fire in a warm, husky baritone that sent chills down Louis’ spine. It was difficult, but Louis tried his best not to stare as Harry swayed around the kitchen, drying dishes and putting them away. Liam packed the leftovers into some old butter dishes he’d found in one of the cabinets, and Louis wiped the countertops of stray crumbs and drips of bacon grease. When the kitchen was clean, Harry switched off the radio and the three of them lazily made their way into the den. Louis paused in front of the couch, patting his shirt pocket. He pulled a cigarette out of the pack and held it between his lips.

“Goin’ out for a smoke,” he mumbled around the cigarette. Liam gave him a mock salute from where he’d planted himself in an ancient leather recliner, and Harry nodded from his sprawled out position on a loveseat covered in dated floral upholstery. He had his arms folded behind his head and his legs spread out wide; one bent at the knee, foot still on the floor, and the other sticking at least a foot and a half beyond the armrest. Louis forced his eyes away and stepped out onto the porch.

He’d smoked about half his cigarette down when he heard the door squeak on its hinges. He didn’t turn around, but suddenly there was a heavy thump as someone sank onto the front step next to him. He didn’t have to look over to know that it was Harry – it felt like there was static electricity in the six inches or so between their arms and that was more than enough to clue him in.

“Mind if I have a drag of that?” Harry asked, and Louis did look up at that. No one just asks someone they’ve known for less than twenty-four hours for a drag off the cigarette they’re currently smoking – not sober, anyway. Louis tried not to look too startled.

“Uh, I mean, you can have one if you want.” He went to pull the pack out of his shirt pocket but Harry shook his head.

“No, no, I don’t really smoke, actually,” he said, looking down with a little smile. “Not when I’m sober, at least. I probably wouldn’t finish it and I don’t wanna waste your cigarettes.”

“If you don’t smoke, why are you out here?” _Smooth, Tomlinson_ , Louis mentally scolded himself. _Flirt a little harder with the straight boy next time _.__

__Harry tilted his head back, looking a just a little bashful. “I, uh...I usually spend a lot of time alone nowadays. Kinda winds me up being in a house full of people like this.” He laughed softly, shaking his head and looking back down at his bare feet._ _

__Louis just nodded, wordlessly holding the cigarette out for Harry to take. He looked away when Harry took it, their fingers just barely brushing in the exchange. It was enough that he had an image of Harry’s soft, pink lips curled around the filter of the cigarette burned into his imagination and he couldn’t – wouldn’t be able to stand seeing those lips right where his own had been just seconds before._ _

__He was broken out of his mild state of panic by Harry’s elbow knocking against his, cigarette held loosely in his fingers. Louis took it back silently, immediately raising it back to his lips and sucking down most of what was left on on one deep breath. He wasn’t sure if he imagined it, but the end of the filter felt cool against his lips; the ghost of a little bit of saliva left from Harry’s mouth. _Bad form_ , Louis thought. _He wasn’t lying about not really being a smoker_._ _

__He’d smoked it close enough to the filter to justify stubbing it out against the porch step and tossing the butt into the dust of the front yard, so he did, because he couldn’t get the thought of tasting Harry’s lips – however faintly and indirectly – out of his head._ _

__+_ _

__The rest of the day passed quietly, lazy in the way that only a summer day in Texas can be. Niall was back at the house by lunchtime, and they’d all sat in the living room eating their Oscar Mayer bologna sandwiches and passing around a bag of potato chips while they laughed at the sordid affairs of people on shows like Maury and Judge Judy._ _

__When suppertime rolled around, no one wanted to cook anything and Niall made the executive decision to drive into town to a local barbecue joint. As they made their way out the front door, Louis called shotgun and ran, laughing, toward Niall’s truck. He could hear Liam just behind him, and he thought Harry was right behind Liam, but he knew he was quick enough to get what he wanted. He couldn’t risk being stuck in the backseat with Harry. This little – this little _thing_ he was feeling was already threatening to get out of control if he didn’t force himself into acting like he had some sense. He couldn’t let himself be alone with Harry again. As oblivious as Harry seemed to be about normal social interaction sometimes, Louis knew himself well enough to know that when he got this way he could act like a complete idiot if he didn’t keep himself in check. Sometimes he could still feel the sting in his cheekbone from the punch Chris Miller had thrown in the locker room after P.E. class in seventh grade. “ _What are you looking at, faggot?_ ” echoed in his head, but Louis forced it out, reminding himself that he wasn’t a kid anymore. He’d grown up, and he’d learned how to be careful. And starting now, he was going to be more careful about Harry. __

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr](http://wildwomanofthewoods.tumblr.com)!


End file.
